


Murder heels II

by MedeaV



Series: Murder heels [2]
Category: Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Mission Fic, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 19:40:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8173612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MedeaV/pseuds/MedeaV
Summary: Prompt: Natasha and Bucky tease each other all day, and the consequences later that night.





	

“You know,” Bucky starts, tongue darting out nervously to lick his lips. “I don’t think you’re really  _ helping  _ the mission.”

“Why, James,” Natasha replies, sounding as unfazed as always and turning her head to throw a look down the corridor. “I’m providing you with a perfect cover. Just keep your hand on my ass.”

Bucky groans, but keeps his right hand exactly where it is. Not even stroking. His left hand is next to her head, fumbling to turn off the security system (which is kind of the whole point of the mission. Not the  _ fun  _ point though).

If anyone rounds the corner right now, they’ll probably walk right back. Because her naked leg, snaked around his hip, sends a pretty clear message, reinforced by his hand disappearing under her dress. Her left leg, of course, since the right is where she has her gun. And his right hand, since he needs the strength and preciseness of the left.

However, there are other things that can be done with that strength and preciseness, and Natasha considers them at length while listening to the soft whirring directly next to her right ear. Also, her right hand is resting quite innocently on his hips, but she could also use it to reinforce their cover. Like sliding it over his abs and then down to flick the button of his suit pants open…

Bucky groans again while his hips push automatically against her hand. “Are you fucking serious?”

Natasha grins up at him, holding his zipper without pulling at it. “Is there a problem, James?”

“Jesus, Nat, just let him do his job,” Steve’s voice throws in over the comms. He’s a floor below them, just waiting until the alarms are down and he can sneak into their target’s office and obtain whatever proof of his weapon-dealing activity he can find while Natasha discreetly abducts the guy without his business partners noticing.

“I’m not doing anything,” Natasha replies innocently. Which is true, because while her hand rests in a very compromising position, it doesn’t  _ move.  _ She is sure James appreciates the difference. “Also, you can’t even see us.”

“We can  _ hear  _ you,” Sam’s amused voice reminds her. He’s tasked with guarding the getaway car and the exits. “Also, we  _ know  _ you.”

Natasha sighs and leans back against the wall, which gives her the space to flick her wrist and get Bucky’s zipper down. “That’s just the cover. Isn’t that true, James?”

“I hate you,” Bucky returns unenthusiastically. Something inside the wall clicks. “I think- No, there’s another one. Sorry, guys.”

Steve and Sam both groan at the same time. It’s hilarious. Natasha grins and runs her nails carefully over the bulge in James’ pants and he joins the groaning. “We don’t have forever,” Steve reminds them. “I think he’s ordering a taxi right now. So, if you could  _ hurry up a little _ , that would be  _ great _ .”

“Actually, what’s plan B?” Sam interjects. “You know, in case our dear friends are unable to do their job because they decided it would be better to make out in the hallway.”

“Hey.” Bucky pouts. It looks cute. “A little trust, please. We’re professionals.”

Sam’s voice is dripping with sarcasm and he stretches the words for emphasis. “Well, it’s not like it hasn’t happened  _ before-” _

Natasha groans. “That was his fault.”

“Well, it didn’t exactly sound like he had to drag you there kicking and screaming,” Steve remarks dryly. “Target’s on the move. Sam, I think he’s heading to the north- never mind, he’s just bidding goodbye.”

“Also, that was a completely different situation,” Natasha continues, ignoring him. “Though I do remember that high heels were involved… and a fancy dress.”

Bucky drops his forehead against the wall, biting back a moan because her heel is digging into his lower back. It also pushes his hips very nicely against her. He still manages to huff out: “That dress was way fancier than this one.”

“You shouldn’t have ripped it, then,” Natasha gave back. Sam groans something about  _ details.  _ “Also, what’s wrong with satin?”

“Nothing,” Bucky mutters, attacking the security system again. “Nothing at all.”

“I think he’s still lingering around,” Steve states. “We still have a moment.”

“Do you think it looks like a nightgown?” Natasha asks. Then she grins, pushing her chest out. “Or do you just miss the cleavage?”

“I really dread the moment you two get off the comms,” Sam remarks ironically. “And get a fucking room.”

“Language?” Bucky suggests cheekily. He shuts up, though, when Natasha slides her thumb under the elastic waistband of his boxer shorts.

“ _ Anyway _ .” Steve sounded somewhat exasperated. No idea why. “How long do you need?”

“I should be through in a minute,” Bucky replies. “Depends on- gosh, are you even wearing panties, Natalia?”

“Okay, I’m calling it,” Sam interjected, groaning for an entirely different reason than Bucky. “If you answer that question, then fuck this mission, you can kiss my ass, I’m outta here.”

“Well…” Natasha stretches the moment purposefully. “If you don’t move your hand, you won’t find out.”

“Yes, he will find out,” Steve contradicts immediately. “After we are done with this mission, for Heaven’s sake.”

Bucky looks somehow really relaxed now. Warning sign. “You know what? Give me a minute and I’ll have this figured out.” Natasha watches wearily as he starts plucking at the stuff in the wall again. She gasps when his hand does move, though not to cup her ass. He throws a grin her way while his fingers slip into her panties. Of course she bluffed again. She just can’t understand why anyone would want to do a mission without underwear. That’s such a stupid idea, with a dress that is cut up almost all the way up her thigh.

Bucky’s eyes focus on the task at hand again, but his fingers are still teasing around her entrance. She’ll never ever say anything about his multitasking abilities again. When she stops biting her lip to keep from gasping. They’re still on the comms, after all.

She grinds against his hand though and he lets her. Not like he has much of a choice, actually, as long as he’s busy with the other problem that’s not her. She still wants more, however, and tugs at his waistband impatiently because that’s sure as hell going to get her his attention.

He throws her a warning look, but gives in and slips two fingers inside of her. Natasha lets her head fall back and just starts fucking herself on his fingers as good as possible. Bucky helps by occasionally crooking them at the right moment. It’s not easy, but it’s definitely enough to get her going.

“You’re so silent all of a sudden,” Sam remarks idly.

“Well, since I’m letting him do his  _ job  _ now-”, Natasha answers with a deceptively steady, if a bit raspy voice. Fuck, his fingers feel good. She might actually-

“Alright, alarm is down,” Bucky announces suddenly. “Steve, you can.”

Natasha freezes in place. He doesn’t really expect her to- Yep, the bastard’s withdrawing his fingers, grinning widely and licking them clean. Steve is saying something, but it doesn’t really register. “I hate you.”

“Love you too, sweetie,” Bucky answers, smiling a fake smile. “You should go. See you later.”

Natasha just stares at him menacingly, which unfortunately doesn’t make him sway in the least. Then she rucks up her dress, definitely more than necessary, adjusts her underwear, making sure he sees what he’s missing, turns around and walks off, swaying her hips exaggeratedly.

“Oh, love must be fun,” Sam muses. “I really wonder how you two ever achieved  _ anything. _ ”

“Well, they achieved it separately,” Steve needles. “Just saying…”

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky responds, sounding slightly out of breath. Natasha grins at that while slipping into the crowd. Oh, how they’re gonna have fun later.

 

They literally throw the target in the truck and tell Sam and Steve to leave them here as they have ‘unfinished business’. Both roll their eyes, but both also seem pretty glad to finally get out of here and away from them. As for Bucky and Natasha, well, they will find a way to get home. Sometime in the distant future that decidedly does not concern them now.

Unfortunately, they have to make their way through the crowd again to reach the stairs. They could have stayed in the garage, but it was too risky in case someone else wanted to get to their car. “So,” Natasha starts in a low voice. “Where are we going?”

“Bed,” Bucky answers briefly, scanning the two halls that start from where they are standing. “Non-negotiable.”

Natasha grins, catlike. “Really? I thought you’d just take me round the next corner.”

Bucky growls and throws her an impatient look. “I thought you didn’t want that. Left or right?”

“Ah, you know.” Natasha starts stalking down the hall to her left. “I’ve got flexible morals.”

She ends up with her back against the wall as soon as they are out of sight of the main hall downstairs. Not like she didn’t expect that. “You are terrible,” Bucky states between kisses, his hands firmly holding her waist. “Especially when you’re horny.”

“Shouldn’t have made me horny then,” Natasha returns, snaking a hand between them to slide it under his shirt. “And shouldn’t have gone on a mission for two entire weeks.”

“Oh, come on.” Bucky’s very different fingers fist the smooth fabric of her dress. “That was necessary. And it’s not like you don’t do the same.”

“I didn’t say anything against that.” Natasha’s hand slides downwards. “But now, it’s equally necessary that you get out of that fucking pants and in me.”

Bucky actually picks her up at that and her dress rides up all the way to her waist when she locks her legs around his hips. Too bad she doesn’t care. He’s randomly pushing doors open, apparently hell bent on his bed, while she trails kisses along his clean-shaven jaw.

Natasha barely registers that they enter a room, only that she lands on a bed, and then she barely registers that he pushes up her dress and rips off her soaked panties, only that he suddenly has his mouth on her. She shouts, pleasantly surprised. Her thighs rest over his shoulders and tighten around his head with the surging pleasure. For a second she wants to ask whether that bothers him, being locked between her legs, possibly suffocated, but she forgets that as soon as his metal fingers slide along her folds. He’ll do something about it if it bothers him. She’s entirely busy with grinding against his hand and his mouth.

With his tongue, his lips and his fingers, she’s shaking very soon. Of course, it also helps that after two weeks, she’s almost starved for his touch. It’s probably the same for him, but they’ll come to that later. And right now, she doesn’t give a damn about anything, except that he is there and that what he does feels wonderful.

She’s not keeping track of the time, but it feels like she comes way too soon. It’s just like the spark was there the whole evening and he only needed to stoke it into the heat that surges through her now, that makes her back arch and her voice break and her stomach flutter. He pulls back then and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand while she tries to get it back together, staring at the ceiling. She hears him get up, walk and lock the door. Only now? Ah, well. Who cares? “Hands and knees?” his voice suggests.

“Sounds good,” Natasha answers breathlessly, crawls back on the bed and turns over, pushing herself up.

She’s on her hands and knees on the bed now and her dress just barely covers her ass. It still makes something in his chest flutter when he sees her like this. When she first suggested this position, he had been very uncomfortable with it because his body covering hers reminded him of just how  _ tiny _ she actually was, compared to him. And also because he preferred seeing her face, not just in case he was doing something wrong and potentially hurting her, but also to see the bliss spread there. However, when he then discovered how much more intensely she reacted to his thrusts (and also how well he could reach her clit and what noises that could cause her to make), he somewhat changed his opinion. He’s still careful about it though.

He climbs on the bed behind her while she turns her head impatiently, watching him pull down his pants (and his boxer shorts. He really didn’t need that feeling again). Her red hair sprawls over her shoulder and her back. He leans over to kiss her and her hips push back against him immediately. He pulls back to run a finger over her folds (she really missed him, as it seems) before grabbing her hips and slowly pulling her back onto him. She hisses and throws her head back. Once he’s fully inside of her, he gives her the time to adjust and busies himself with pulling the straps of her dress down her arms, helped by her raising her hands and slipping out of them, then opens the clasp of her bra, which drops by itself, and when he gets a hand on her breast, he starts thrusting.

Natasha immediately squirms against him in both directions, her head tilted to the side so he can kiss and bite her neck, but it drops as soon as he gets his right hand on her hips and pulls her into his thrusts. His left hand is playing with her nipple. He’s still surprised when her arms start quivering already and she starts cursing until her elbows give in, her head drops and her scream is muffled by the pillow. His grip on her hip tightens because her clenching around him feels way too good, but it’s his right one, so it’s okay. She’s not going to break. In fact, she’s already pushing up again, grinning at him over her shoulder. “I fucking missed that.”

“Only that?” he asks with a pout, but he’s already moving inside of her again, so it might not appear all that serious. She’s no longer looking at him, her hands gripping the pillow, the sheets or whatever they can find to hold on.

Her voice is steady, however, though he loves the hoarseness in there. “No, I also missed you pounding me into the shower wall-” She’s interrupted by a deep moan from his part. Though she makes a similar sound when he pushes into her. “-after a good sparring session. And you pushing my legs over your shoulders and fucking me through the mattress- Oh, and sitting on your face. Especially that.”

He moves his hand down her stomach because she probably just drastically shortened the period of time he’s going to successfully keep from coming, with these images in his head. He kisses her shoulder and has to bow his back for that. She’s so  _ small.  _ “Sounds like we have a checklist.”

“Mhm.” She somehow manages both to push back against him and down against his hand at the same time. “Also, limited timeframe. I need to leave for India the day after tomorrow.”

He groans and drops her head on her shoulder. So tiny. “Long?”

“A week”, she answers, wiggling her hips until he starts moving again. “If things go well, less.”

“And you tell me that only now,” he remarks sourly, circling her clit as if in revenge. Though he’s not sure his satisfaction at her shivering is due to that.

“Thought you should enjoy it as long as you can.” Her voice is getting more and more raspy. He slides his finger over her clit but she doesn’t make a sound, only stiffens. “Make it good.”

Well, that was his plan anyway. He might still change some things, though. He really wants to hear her scream. His finger rubs over her clit and he grips her hips with the other hand, burying himself deep inside of her and staying there. While her clitoris needs friction, the good spots inside of her just want continued pressure. He keeps her steady while her back arches, a guttural moan leaves her lips, her arms tremble and, finally, she clenches around him again and her head drops into the pillow. He just thinks about her being away and that’s enough to stay on track.

This time, she keeps her head down longer and he starts pushing into her again, because it just feels too good, careful not to ruck her too much. She moans happily and pushes herself up on her hands again. He leans down to nuzzle her neck and bite her earlobe. “Moya zvezda. I want to hear you scream.”

“Mhm.” Natasha leans up so he can reach her ear better. Her eyes are closed and she is smiling. “Make me.”

He grins, sucking a mark on her neck just below her hair where nobody will see it, but it is still there. She’ll remember it. “How?”

“Put your hands on my breasts,” Natasha orders. He obeys all too willingly, starts kneading them and thumbing the nipples. “Mmm, yeah, like that. Keep the right one there, left one between my legs.”

“You’re still so  _ coherent _ ,” Bucky complains, doing just as she says. She doesn’t answer, but starts moaning. He’ll take that as a win. It’s kind of multitasking to thumb her nipple, rub her clit and push into her at the same time and not to do anything too hard, but it feels like he’s doing pretty well. If her moans are any indication.

“Now- Oh god.” Her head drops again, but her arms stay up. He does not go any slower, though, because there is this voice inside his head saying how  _ good  _ it would feel to come right now. “Hands on my hips. And-” She manages to throw a smile at him over her shoulder. “Fuck me. Hard.”

He loves it when she says that. And she loves it when he does it. It would be perfect, really, if it wouldn’t forcibly lead to him coming. But now is okay. He grabs her hips with both hands and starts pounding into her, sending her whole body shaking and forcing the air out of her lungs in the form of moans, almost screams already. That’s good because there’s no word good enough to describe the friction. She’s gasping in between moans or screams, he can’t quite tell, and she throws her head back forcefully and her hair slaps over his face-

It’s too much all at once and he stills, buried deep inside of her, pulsing, spilling, death grip on her hips and oh God, that’s too early, she-

She has a hand on her clit almost immediately and- “ _ James! _ ”

His vision goes white when her walls start milking him for every last drop and he tries and fails not to collapse on top of her. He can only hear both of their shaky breaths and a kind of constant ringing noise. It’s almost like after an explosion. Every damn time.

Natasha is the first to stir, dropping her head into the pillow. He sighs, slips out of her and rolls over- well, drops on his back. Oh, that damn shirt. And pants. And everything.

Natasha settles on her side, watching him. “We should really stop fucking on the job.”

“Then we should work less,” he returns sourly. It’s not directed at her and she knows it. The blood starts flowing back into his head.

Natasha sighs and plucks some strands of hair from his forehead. “We both know that’s not going to happen.”

She’s right, as always. It’s just that he sometimes needs to be angry at the universe, even though they are on its good side at the moment. “I guess-” He yawns. “I guess as long as we don’t compromise the mission, it’s fine.”

“And as long as our teammates don’t shoot us,” Natasha adds.

“Right.” Bucky turns onto his side as well. “So just keep your hands off my dick while I’m trying to do something, thank you very much.”

Natasha grins, completely unrepentant. “Thank you for not doing that, you mean?”

“Also thank you for coming up with a cover that requires me to constantly keep a hand on your ass,” Bucky continues ironically, then adds less ironically: “Your wonderful ass.”

“Hm.” Natasha shuffles forward to press herself against his chest. “I was horny.”

He chuckles and runs his fingers through her curls. “Better now?”

She sighs contentedly. “Very.” Then she tilts her head to grin up at him. “At least until we get home.”


End file.
